What May Be
by Blakery
Summary: A story about the future of Harry, set in a slightly altered postDH universe. MAJOR sexual content, violence, and very adult themes. This is going to be a long one!
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH: The Harry Potter series and all characters within are not owned nor created by me. This work is my copyright and may only be used with my express written consent.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

"NO!"

Harry sat bolt upright, clutching at his scar. He'd had the nightmare again...Voldemort finding him, overpowering him, and aiming his wand at Harry's head. The snakelike slits narrowed in triumph, and he contemptuously muttered the words to the Killing Curse.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

It was at that moment, when the get of green light shone forth, that Harry woke.

The dreams had started coming shortly after the end of the school year...after Dumbledore had died. He had only briefly gone to visit his aunt and uncle for what he hoped would be the final time. He knew Dumbledore would want him to have whatever protection that that invoked, but with everything that had happened over the last year, he could not stand staying with them a moment longer than he had to.

He'd been staying with the Weasley's for most of the summer. It was, for most of the Wizarding world, fairly uneventful, which was a blessing and a curse. No headway had been made in the fight against Voldemort, but as far as the _Prophet_ had reported, no one had been killed. While the Wizarding community was relieved that no one had died, they hadn't heard anything at all from Voldemort or the Death Eaters. From what Harry could see of the public on his ventures into Diagon Alley, people were ready to jump at shadows. Relationships were becoming strained...everyone was worried that everyone else was under the Imperius Curse.

Harry had actually spent a great deal of time with Lupin over the summer. It felt to Harry like Remus had taken it upon himself to fill Sirius' role, and while Harry missed his godfather dearly, he had to admit that having Lupin along had helped him. If he hadn't fully healed, at least he was on the way to recovery. Over the summer, Remus had started teaching him many things. Advanced magic was certainly a part of it...several spells that Dumbledore had taught personally to Order members had been passed on to Harry. Under Remus' tutelage, he'd made great headway with nonverbal spells, and had actually developed some skill in Occlumency. Harry was actually shocked at his progress, but when he stopped to think about it, it made sense. He'd never been comfortable in a classroom(with the notable exception of when Lupin had taught him), but he had done well in his O.W.L.'s.

He was also learning some hand to hand combat. Moody thought it important that wizards should be able to defend themselves even without their wands. The training had helped him put on a bit of muscle in the areas that didn't get worked from Quidditch. He could tell from the looks he'd gotten at Grimmauld Place that Ginny and even Hermione had noticed. Truth be told, Harry enjoyed the attention a bit, but wished that someone else would notice.

All throughout the summer, being over and helping out with his training, _she_ had been there. At first, he had treated her the same as always. But after...it...had happened, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her...her tight, curving body...her pretty, heart shaped face, and her ever-changing hair...he had barely admitted it to himself, but he had started to want her, very badly. It still hovered on the edge of awareness...thoughts of her came unbidden only in the twilight moments between waking and sleeping, and were never remembered.

But deep down, he knew.

It had started out simply enough. The Order members had explained to him that in the last war, Voldemort hadn't relied solely on fear. To lure someone to his side, he would often entice them...and for young men, that oftentimes meant seduction. Lupin actually thought that that was how he had gotten Pettigrew to switch sides. The short of it was that it seemed to many that Harry was an emotionally damaged and fairly isolated young man...exactly the type that would be vulnerable to sex. Harry smirked, thinking himself better than that. The talk that he and Lupin had about it swiftly left his thoughts.

And then came the test.

He had been out by himself, getting a butterbeer at Rosmerta's, when one of the the most beautiful women he had ever seen had approached him. Her hair was long and dark, and fell in luxurious curls. She was a good six inches shorter than he was, and while thin, her breasts were large enough to lend her that hourglass figure that he coveted. A few butterbeers later, and Harry was headed for a room at the nearest inn.

They got into the room and kissed each other in a frenzy. He damn near tore her clothes in his fervor to have them off. The woman then slid his shirt over his head, and in the split second that his shirt had covered his eyes, the woman had her wand out.

He was shocked and slightly drunk, but too trained to freeze up. His reflexes took over, and his hand snapped out to grab her wrist. He twisted, and she had to allow herself to be taken down or have her wrist broken. The takedown also affected her fingers, making her drop her wand. When he had her down, he placed his arm across her throat, ready to sink down his weight and crush her throat in an instant.

"That's enough, Harry!" said a voice that had not been the woman's voice five minutes ago, a voice that, however strangled, he recognized.

He eased off of her throat but kept her arm pinned, and before his eyes, her face, hair, and body...shifted. It became a familiar heart shaped face, the hair went back to a bright pink, and the body became more full figured.

"Tonks! How...why?"

Harry was too stunned to realize he should let her up.

"Wotcher, Harry. Dumbledore asked me to...wanted to make sure that if something like this happened you'd be up to it...and you were. Didn't think you were that quick, mate! Glad for it, though..."

Her words penetrated, and Harry relaxed. As he relaxed, though, he realized that Tonks was as bare as the day she was born. Although he knew he shouldn't, he eyed her up and down, slowly, lustfully. He drank in the sight of her...her large, full breasts, her suddenly hardening nipples...the rush of color at her cheeks. His gaze continued downward, taking in her hips, and he looked at the most private part of her...and had to bite back a laugh when she found her little landing strip to be as pink as the rest of her hair. His amusement didn't last long, however, and he felt himself grow hard.

"Harry...you're hurting me," he heard her say. But she didn't sound hurt. Her voice had been tight and breathless, but an older, very masculine part of him knew that it wasn't from pain. He looked at her face and saw his suspicion confirmed. She was biting her lip and her eyes were vague, unfocused. Thinking he understood, Harry tweaked her wrist just a tiny bit. When he did, she gave a short cry and looked away. She positively writhed, her legs rubbing against each other, her hand suddenly gripping her hair as if to keep it from doing anything else.

"I'm sorry," he said, and let her go.

"I'm...um, I'm going to shower, Tonks. We can talk about this after, all right?"

She nodded.

"Sure thing, Harry. I'll get dressed and wait for you."

He walked into the shower, and considered turning it as cold as he could. But he didn't. He turned on the hot water and began to wash his body off. He had cleansed most of himself in the hopes that his erection would have faded. However, when it came time to clean that part of himself, it was as rigid as it had been as when Tonks had been beneath him. Just the thought of having the suddenly extremely sexy Auror at his mercy sent shockwaves of desire through him, and he couldn't stop himself from grasping his shaft.

He was so on edge that every stroke was incredible. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the shower wall. After a minute passed, he was too into it to notice much else.

Which was a good thing.

Tonks entered the room, not wanting to wait any more to set Harry straight about what had happened. When she entered, however, she was the young man backed against the shower wall, eyes closed and head thrown back, rubbing himself in a frenzy.

She was about to reprimand him when her gaze went between his legs.The sight of Harry, with his new and improved body, rubbing his not inconsiderable member made Tonks tight and slick and hot, all the more so when she realized that he was rubbing himself because of her.

Her left hand cupped her ample breast, and her fingers worked her nipple. Wasting no time, and not wanting to be discovered, Tonks right hand found it's way between her legs, and she plunged two fingers deep into her crevice. She started fast, working herself in the ways that only she knew, driving herself to climax as fast as she possibly could. It had been no more than a minute, standing there, masturbating, watching Harry rub himself. As she reached the crest, she bit down on her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. She was a screamer, and knew it, and didn't want Harry to know she was there.

She came not a moment too soon. Right after she was done, she heard Harry groan, and had to stop herself from starting again as she watched Harry orgasm. It was powerful, torrents of seed flying out of him and falling to the ground to be washed away. Hardly believing that she had caused such a frenzy, she slipped out as he drew ragged breath and began to recover.

She had managed to compose herself by the time Harry had finished his shower. But when he came out, hair dripping, muscled body on display, her desire crashed back into her. Her fingers hadn't been enough.

_Damn it, woman, you should have better control than this,_ she chided herself. _He's still a boy!_ She crossed her legs and forced herself to ignore how hot she felt.

The conversation that followed was unimportant. A lot of "This was Dumbledore's idea", along with a couple of "We needed to be sure you'd be all right", but it was all Harry could do to listen and respond. He thought that taking care of himself in the shower would have been all he needed, but looking at Tonks, he remembered having her trapped beneath him. He remembered the pain and injury he could have caused her, and he remembered how it had excited her. The sense of power it gave him was intoxicating.

She left, and he apparated back to his room at the Weasley's. Thankful that it was empty, he made his way to his bed, suddenly exhausted. He threw himself down, and closed his eyes, and sleep, mercifully, came for him quickly. He didn't have time to think about what had happened, or how it had made him feel. For the first time since Dumbledore had died, he didn't think about how badly he missed the Headmaster, and he didn't worry about Voldemort. The only thing that entered his mind as he drifted to sleep was the thought of _her_.


	2. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here's the backdrop you guys need for the story! Remus and Tonks were never into one another, and Tonks survived the Battle of Hogwarts. It's set about a month after the death of Voldemort, I'm skipping the events of the Deathly Hallows because really the only things that have changed are that Tonks are alive and...well, you'll see! And no dirty things this chapter, I'm sorry to say :( More next time, I promise!

* * *

It was over. Finally, mercifully over. Voldemort was at long last dead. His chief followers had been killed, captured, or in the very odd case of the Malfoy's, converted. Harry Potter, it turned out, really HAD been the Chosen One, and had delivered the Wizarding world from the most dangerous Dark Wizard ever to walk the earth.

So why did Harry feel so empty?

He knew that he should be happy. People were left and right proclaiming him the greatest hero ever to come to wizards and witches, saying that he was the next Dumbledore. The Wizengamot had already approached him about taking a seat with them, and every Quidditch team was sending owl after owl with offers for employment. He had finally rid the world of the demon that was Voldemort. He had given justice to his parents, to Sirius, Lupin, Mad-Eye, Dumbledore...even to Snape. He was finally free...no more would Voldemort be hounding him at every turn, looking for his death. But none of that mattered to Harry at the moment.

He had a broken heart.

When he thought about it, he realized that, much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't blame her. He had broken up with her, embarked with her brother and her friend on a journey where his chances of survival had been slim at best, and not had any contact with her for months. Yet somehow, in the back of his mind, he kept thinking to himself that if he made it through this, at least _she'd_ be there. That much, he had told himself, he deserved. And when he found out the truth...he still remembered when he'd found out. He remembered the chill early winter breeze, and the way she seemed to glow in the sunlight. And he remembered the words that made him wish that he hadn't survived his ordeal.

_"I'm sorry, Harry, truly I am," Ginny started. If anyone else had uttered those words in this situation, he would have snorted, but he saw the tears begin to well in her eyes, and he couldn't help but to believe her._

_"But, you were gone, no one was sure whether or not you were alive for so long, and school was so terrible...I was crying all the time, a total wreck, and...he was, he was just so kind and understanding, and he needed me, Harry...and I needed him too. Please, don't hate me, or Neville...it just...happened. And we shared so much...I really care for him...and I think, truly, that what I felt for you was infatuation. Hindsight is always perfect, Harry, and while I will always love you, I don't think I can be in love with you."_

He remembered nodding dully, and the rest of the conversation was a blur in his memories. None of it was important, except that one cold hard fact was driven home.

He had won the war. He had lost the thing that made it most worth fighting.

The truly sad thing was, he did understand. He didn't hate her for it...he couldn't imagine being capable of hate for her. And as for Neville...Harry actually smiled a little bit. Despite his bruised feelings, he couldn't help but smile for his friend. Neville was a good person, and Harry believed he would go on to be a great man. Harry could see it clearly, and was glad that someone else did too. He just wished it wasn't the girl he was in love with.

* * *

The Battle for Hogwarts, while it had removed the Dark Lord and his most dangerous followers, had not been without it's cost. Fred, Lupin, poor Colin Creevy...even Snape, who Harry was now rethinking his estimation of. Fifty others had died in the battle, taking a terrible toll. Professor McGonagall was named the acting headmistress by the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt. She decided, and the other professors quite agreed with her, that time should be taken off, and that it was close enough to the holidays to simply make it a long vacation. Harry had been staying at Hogwarts, and imagined he would over the winter. He could go to Grimmauld Place, of course, but the thought of being in that huge house by himself left him unhappy. It would be empty without the Order coming around to it.

Ron and Hermione had noticed something off with Harry and had tried to cheer him up, but not even they could get through the bleakness that Harry felt. The Weasley's were insisting that he spend the holiday with them, and he wanted to oblige them, especially after they'd lost Fred...but he couldn't abide being near Ginny. The pain was still too near to him. When the time came, Harry wished his friends well on their holiday, promising to write often and to come visit at least for Christmas. He watched them leave the ground, Disapparate, and then...he was alone.

Nearly everyone had left for the holidays. Harry seldom ran into people, and those he did run into were usually too awed by him to speak. He remembered back when he had first come to Hogwarts, and it had been the same. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived...the person that mother's whispered thanks to for being safe at night. It would probably happen again now, he thought wryly. He was sure that there were going to be a lot of boys named Harry rather soon. He was engrossed in his musings, and his sardonic amusement, so much so that he nearly ran over the new Headmistress.

"Why, I...oh, it's you, Potter," she said, adjusting her robes. Something inside of Harry loosened a bit, hearing her still calling him Potter. He fought off a stupid grin that would have been on his face for no reason at all.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, "I wasn't paying attention."

McGonagall quirked an eyebrow at Harry and gave her one of her wry looks. "Had a bit on your mind lately, I'd wager. I do understand, Potter...you've been through more than most could even imagine. I know the battle was hard on everyone, and it was hard on you, too. If you need to talk, at any time, Potter...Acid Pops," she finished with a smirk.

This time, Harry couldn't hold back his grin.

* * *

Harry was sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, alone. Nearly everyone had chosen to go home to their families this year. There'd been a tragedy, and Harry could well understand wanting to be close with your loved ones. He sat eating, and was so lost in his own thoughts that when he felt someone thunk down next to him, he nearly choked on his food.

"Wotcher, Harry," a familiar voice said.

Harry managed to swallow and turned to see Tonks, looking at him and grinning. He couldn't help smiling back at her...she had always been too damn charming.  
"Hey, Tonks. All right?"

"All right, Harry. Hm," she said, placing one fist beneath her chin in a look of mock contemplation, "I've been here a whole ten seconds and you haven't asked me why I've come. You sure you're the real Harry, or are you an alien?"

He smirked back at her. "C'mon, Tonks, give me credit for being a quick learner, at least. Didn't go with Ron, staying at school which I haven't been to all year, haven't spoken to any of the Order...I wonder, could you be here to check on me?"

"By Merlin!" Her hands flew to her cheeks and she looked mortified. "How could you have known? Truly, your powers are great!"

Harry barked out a laugh and shook his head. She had always made him laugh.

"Seriously though," Tonks said, lounging against his table, "Shack and Arthur are worried about you. With most of the others dead, they're running the Order now. There're still some Death Eaters to take care of and a lot of cleaning up to do, so that's why we all still have our secret decoder rings. I was gonna bring you one, mate, but we're fresh out, gotta wait for the next order. But really...how are you, Harry?"

For some reason, even though he hadn't spoken to anyone yet, her offhandedness and concern were what he needed. He looked around and saw the few people that were still at Hogwarts staring at the both of them. Not wanting to be any more of a spectacle than he already was, Harry got up.

"Not here...we can go to the Common Room and talk there, if that's okay?"

"Ooooh, I get invited to go chat with the Chosen One by the fire! I'm all a-flutter...the other witches will be so jealous!"

Harry, finishing his glass of water, snorted what he had been about to swallow out his nose, making Tonks giggle while he hastily wiped himself off with a napkin. He tried to glare at her, but it was hard to do when someone had just made liquid come out of your nasal cavity. He finally gave up and rolled his eyes before giving her one of the first honest smiles he'd had in a long time.

"Thanks...I needed that."  
"I could tell. Now, let's go fill me in."

Harry was sure that Tonks wouldn't be the type that would require constant speech, and he was right. They walked together in companionable silence. and Harry began to feel more at ease and less guarded than he had in weeks. The Fat Lady greeted them at the threshold.

"Password?" she trilled.

"Voldemort's dead," Harry answered with grim satisfaction.

"Thank Merlin!" the painting exclaimed as she swung open.

The common room was empty, as Harry had known it would be. He set his bag down and took a seat on the couch near the fire. Tonks took one of the chairs facing the couch and sat easily, crossing her legs. Harry really looked at her for the first time, taking her in. He'd always thought she was pretty, and her style of dress, so different than most witches, only accentuated her looks. She was wearing a pair of tight fitting jeans, a Quidditch shirt for the Holyhead Harpies, and a dark navy sweatshirt with the zipper down. Remembering briefly their encounter last summer, he looked away before allowing himself to take in any more of her.

"Well? What's going on in that Potter head of yours?"

Harry sighed, not quite sure how to put into words what he was feeling.

"Well...right. Okay. I...I bloody well did it, didn't I? I beat him. I saved us all. I don't have anyone after my blood anymore. I can be normal, and live a normal life. I don't have to worry about this stupid magical connection, about not being able to come through. I've done everything Dumbledore ever asked of me...and it cost me more than anyone knows. I'm not trying to whine but...after my parents died, I was given to my aunt and uncle. My room was a cupboard, Tonks. I lived in a cupboard under our staircase until I was thirteen years old. They didn't tell me who I was, or who my parents were. They told me that my parents were worthless layabouts, that they died in a car accident. Then, when I was eleven, I got my first Hogwarts letter."

Harry couldn't hold back a grin at the memory of Vernon trying to stop the letters, and of Hagrid finding them...

"Hagrid came to get me, told me who I was, who my parents were...he, Tonks, he told me that I was _worth_ something. I don't think you can understand...your parents seemed wonderful. The people who raised me barely gave me enough food to survive and if they acted like I didn't exist, it was the best treatment I could hope for. When I came to Hogwarts they started telling people that I was...that I was touched in the head, that I was going to a school for the criminally insane."

Harry had to swallow past a lump that had suddenly risen in his throat. He took a quick glance at Tonks and her mouth was slightly open, in shock, he knew. He could see the horror etched into her face, and could see the tears welling in her eyes. He had to look down, then. He hadn't gotten this deep into it with even Ron or Hermione, and if he saw her break down, he would break down, and something told him that this was something he needed to get off his chest, once and for all.

"To know that my parents were good people...that they were brave, and smart, and talented, and just...good...and that they loved me. Tonks, they loved me enough to die for me. They gave their lives up so that I could live. When I found that out...something in me, it started to breathe. It felt like an ache was starting to go away, an ache so deep that I didn't even know it had existed. Then I found Dumbledore...Remus...Sirius. God, Sirius. Even though Dumbledore manipulated me, I believe he came to care for me. And, and I don't think there are words to tell you how much I loved Sirius. He was...he was someone who had spent the last decade and more in a prison so bad that some wizards can only whisper it's name. And he kept himself mostly whole through it all. And he loved me so much. He was...he was like a father to me, and no one else in my life had ever been that...and then, in an instant, I lost him. And no matter what anyone says...it's my fault."

She didn't interrupt, and when he looked up, there were tears, but also a grim understanding. Harry had to remind himself that even though she hadn't lived through what he had, she was an Auror, and a member of the Order. She had lost friends, and some of them might have even been in some part because of her. It was actually a relief to have someone not tell him to blame himself for Sirius' death. Tonks looked Harry right in the eyes, and he could tell. There was a comfort in hearing someone admit it. She knew that, and now so did he.

"Almost everyone that I'd come to love, who could have become family...all of them were taken from me. Every last one. I had Ron and Hermione at least, but...it's different with your mates, you know? Finally, last year, I thought I'd found someone, someone who I could be with...someone that made me happy and made life feel simple and easy and good. And after Dumbledore died...I couldn't do it anymore. She'd be in danger, and I couldn't let that happen, so I decided to cut it off to keep her safe. And it was the right thing to do, I know, but...before I went looking for the horcruxes, we kissed. It was like...it was like the last bit of leftovers after Christmas, you know? It was amazing and you hate that it's gone and you look forward to the next time you'll have it, even though you know you might never have the same thing again."

Harry pulled his knees in, wrapping his arms around them and gazing into the crackling fire. He thought for a moment how best to express what he had felt before continuing.

"Having that before I left into something that was almost certain to cause my death, and which came closer than anyone knows...it was honestly the only thing that kept me going sometimes. I know it sounds stupid, but thinking that I had her to come back to...it kept me from giving up. It kept me from rolling over and dying. And when I've done it, I've won, and I've come back, and all I want is her...she, ah, she found someone else," Harry choked out, his voice cracking a little.

"And I don't blame her or hate her and I know this is stupid and I must sound like a petulant child. I know what everyone would say...there are other girls to find, and I know there are. Part of it is that she was...is...really special. But, and I just figured this out because I've been babbling about it for the last five minutes...I just want someone to love me and not go away."

He fell silent after that, slightly absorbed in his own thoughts and the new revelation that had struck him. He didn't even realize that he was crying until he tasted salt. He heard Tonks get up, felt her weight settle in next to him and her arm slip around him. She was warm from being near the fire, and she smelled good, like vanilla and honey. He was oddly detached as he folded into her, letting his head drop onto her shoulder, allowing himself, for the first time in a very, very long time, to be comforted. He wasn't certain when he started sobbing, but it went on for a few minutes until they subsided. The last thing he remembered before drifting off was her scent, the feel of her, one arm around him, the other stroking his hair, and the feeling of something raw inside of him begin to mend. Then, for that night, he knew nothing more.


	3. Chapter 2

WARNING(or promise): Explicit sexual content at the end

* * *

Harry's eyes opened slowly, and he was almost surprised to find himself in his bed in Gryffindor Tower. Sleep had been, mercifully, dreamless, and the transition from last nights emotion to this morning was...well, odd. He felt empty, but not hollow...almost like he had been absolved of a burden he hadn't even known he'd carried. He sat up and looked about for his glasses, finding them on the small table next to his bed. He put them on and was a little surprised to see Tonks lying in the bed next to his. He thought she would've left or at least went to the girl's dormitory...but when he thought about it, it didn't surprise him. She'd probably been out on missions where she and her teammates were roughing it, and they all had to sleep in the same area. So what would sleeping near Harry matter?

As Harry felt a chill, he realized, for the first time, that he had no clothes on. Color rushed to his cheeks and he reached for his wand, which had been right next to his glasses. He pointed his wand at his chest, wordlessly opening it and floating over a fresh shirt and pants. He changed into them as silently as he could, not wanting Tonks to see, and he was surprised when her voice called out "Little embarrassed, Harry?"

He fought down the urge to crawl under the covers and hide. He schooled his features and matched her light tone, thanking Merlin that he at least had some pants on at this point.

"Just being polite, Tonks," he said offhandedly. Her comfort with his nudity, he thought, was probably because at the end of last summer, she had been him, albeit briefly, through the use of the Polyjuice Potion. He remembered that everyone had been rather comfortable getting naked when it was his body that they were wearing.

He stretched his arms toward the air and rolled his shoulders a bit, shrugging off the sleep-induced languidness in his muscles. He kicked the covers off of his legs and swung his feet to the floor, turning to regard her. She was reclining easily in the bed that belonged to Ron, wearing the same clothes she had the night before.

"Hey, Tonks...about last night...I'm sorry. You just wanted to know how I was doing, not listen to me break down about my life because of a stupid girl."

Tonks shrugged and smiled at him. He had seen her smile before, but this time, somehow, it was different. It made his breath catch, and he didn't know why.

"It's okay...listen, everyone knows that it can't have been easy to be you. But I never knew what it was like, Harry. And from the way you were talking, neither does anyone else. You're, what, seventeen now? And look at everything that's happened. I think you deserve to vent a little bit. And, Harry...take it from someone who has a little more experience in these matters. That tart doesn't have a mite of sense if she's tossed you for someone else."

Harry nodded, feeling inexplicably relieved. If nearly anyone else had said those same words to him, it wouldn't have made an inch from difference. But for some reason, hearing it from her...

"So," Harry said, switching gears, "Kingsley became Minister? That's good...we've finally got someone decent in there. How're things going for him?"

Tonks shrugged.

"Well, good and bad. I agree with you, it's about time we had someone right on the job...but he's having a rough time of it. The Ministry lost a lot of people, both good and bad, to the Death Eaters. And, to be perfectly honest, people are slow to trust the Ministry again after all that's happened. In fact, his reason for sending me to you wasn't completely altruistic."  
Tonks hesitated before going on, and by the time she spoke, Harry had a pretty good idea of what she was going to say.

"Look, Harry, this wasn't my idea, so don't curse the messenger, all right? He knows the Ministry has tried to make your life hell, but, well, he's hoping now that it's under different management-"  
"That the Chosen One can come in and tell people to pull together?" Harry said with a smirk. Tonks shrugged and looked more than a little uncomfortable, and Harry couldn't help but bark out a laugh.

"You know, I think this is the first time that the Ministry of Magic has actually asked me for something without threatening me. Shacklebolt has always done right by me, so...why wait? Let's go now."

* * *

The travel by floo network took an instant, and Harry stepped out into a Ministry that was not nearly as bustling as he remembered. He and Tonks walked unnoticed to the Minister's office. Percy, apparently an assistant to Shacklebolt, gave them a halfhearted smile and waved them in. Kingsley Shacklebolt sat at his desk, which happened to be covered in a rather large amount of paperwork. He looked up when they entered and his face broke into a rare smile...he was obviously relieved to see them. He rose from his seat and walked around his desk to them, extending his hand towards Harry.

"I'm very thankful you've come, Harry. I appreciate it more than you can know."  
Harry took his hand and shook it briefly. After they broke their grip, Kingsley walked behind his desk and indicated the two chairs in front of it for Harry and Tonks. They sat down and Harry spoke.

"So, Kings...err, Minister, what exactly do you want? Are we going to shake hands and make nice in front of the cameras, am I going to give a speech, what's your plan?"

Kingsley steepled his fingers and looked at Harry.

"Something a little more...immersive than that, Harry. The fact of the matter is, we've been hit very, very hard. We need someone to unite us, make us strong again, so that some fool who wants to follow in You-Know-Who's footsteps doesn't gather a following. You see, during the first time You-Know-Who was in power, we still had Dumbledore. He gave people a sense of safety and security, and this time around...well, he was dead. You know what happened when Fudge was leaving office and when Scrimgeour was in power...they tried to force you to their side, to parade you as a symbol of hope. They were wrong to do that, but they were not wrong about the effect it would have had. People crave a hero, an example that they can try to live up to. And whether you'll realize it or not, you're a true hero, Harry. We need you. But I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't be interested in calling the Daily Prophet every now and again and telling them what an excellent job you think we're doing. You have to believe in something to support it, which is one of your best qualities. So, I want you to work for me."

"Uh, thanks for the offer, Minister, but I'm not really one for paperwork..."

Shacklebolt chuckled and shook his head.

"No, Harry, that's not quite what I had in mind. I spoke with the new Headmistress at Hogwarts, and I must confess, she did mention something to me about your interest in being an Auror..."

Harry's jaw dropped in shock.

"You...you want to make me an Auror?"

"Well, not make, exactly. I'd like you to become one. While it's true that you've done more than most wizards could even dream of, I don't want this to be nepotism. You'll still have to go through the training, which I have no doubt you will be more than able to handle. If there's anything we've learned from what's happened, it's that the Ministry needs people like you, people who will stand by their beliefs."

Harry took a minute to respond. He'd wanted to be an Auror for a long time, and truth be told, he'd given up on almost every ambition he'd had, except to stop Voldemort. He hadn't even began to think about what he'd do next, and all of a sudden...this.

"What about school?"

Tonks laughed.

"Harry, you killed Voldemort, and that whole thing with the Elder Wand...that shows a very, very deep knowledge of not only magic, but the way magic works. I don't think your teachers would object to you being passed on...besides, most of them would probably be nervous teaching you."

Harry had to own, she was probably right.

"It's a moot point, actually," said Kingsley. "I've already spoken to the Headmistress, and she quite agrees with me. You've shown knowledge, ability, maturity and courage far beyond what anybody would have expected of you. If you agree, you'll be formally graduated from Hogwarts. This offer also extends to your friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. You've all shown that you can handle the responsibilities of a grown wizard. We need you, Harry."

Harry mulled it over for a moment. Kingsley was right...he'd been forced to discover on his own what most people would never have to learn. What would the point of studying for N.E.W.T.'s be? He nodded, making his decision.

"All right...sign me up."

Kingsley smiled.

"I'm glad to hear that, Harry. Tonks here will take you to the Auror Office, and we can get the process underway. If you ever have any concerns, you can always come speak to me, Percy or Arthur."  
Harry nodded, stood, and shook the Minister's hand. He nearly started when he realized that he was nearly as tall as Kingsley. He remembered meeting the man for the first time and thinking that he was huge. _Time brings change_, Harry thought, and wondered that he could still be surprised at so ordinary an occurrence.

As Tonks led the way out, Kingsley called out.  
"And, Tonks...?"  
"Don't worry, sir, I haven't forgotten," she replied.

As they walked out and Tonks led the way to the Auror's office, Harry queried her.

"So, what didn't you forget?"

"Well," began Tonks, "there's a feeling amongst quite a lot of the Order that you'll still be something of a target. Not all of You-Know-Who's followers have been rounded up, so there's still danger. Likely not much, of course...after the first war, all of his followers started acting good and polite as soon as he was gone. After this time, well, he's definitely dead now, so there's not even a chance of him coming back. It's not likely you'll be attacked directly, but there are still those who might want to make life...well, unpleasant for you. So Kingsley decided you needed someone to watch your back, and guess who was picked for it."

From her wry tone, Harry didn't really have to guess, and he told her precisely that. She chuckled a little bit and went on.

"Yeah. Well, it makes sense. Shack is the new Minister, Arthur has a lot more responsibilities now, and...well, as sad as it is, that's pretty much it for the Order. I'm left, and, since you're going to be training in the Auror Office, it just follows that I'd keep an eye on you. Unless..." she seemed to hesitate, "unless you'd rather it was someone else."

Harry felt heat flood his cheeks for some reason, and looked away before Tonks would notice.

"No...no, you're more than okay, Tonks."  
She stumbled, then. Harry had not noticed, but over the past couple of days, she had not shown any of her usual clumsiness. This had been the first instance. She tripped quite literally over her own two feet and fell right into Harry. He reacted on reflex, and his arms went around her, steadying her. He held her there for a moment to make sure she was stable...and suddenly, it became something else.  
Harry became painfully aware of just how intimate a position they were in. He could suddenly not hold back the memory of Tonks, beautiful, voluptuous, stretched out naked beneath him and at his mercy. There was no way he could stop his sudden erection, and Harry was mortified when he felt himself straining against his jeans, pressing against Tonks back. He pulled away his hands so swiftly, you'd think he had been burned. But, after a quick glance around to make sure they were alone, Tonks didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned back, trapping Harry against the wall, and she rolled her hips, grinding Harry against her backside.  
"So," she whispered behind her, her voice low and breathy in a way that made Harry's head swim, "I guess you _really_ don't mind having me watch your back. Just make sure you don't watch mine too much. A little bit is okay, though," she finished with a grin that was pure devilry.

She turned around and let Harry go. He stayed leaning against the wall, catching his breath and shaking his head to clear it.  
_Did that really just happen?  
_He looked up at her, unsure of what to say or do. The look on his face was apparently grounds for hilarity, as Tonks couldn't hold in a chortle.  
"C'mon, we'll talk about _that_ little incident later, mate. We've got work to do."  
Harry followed her silently, not sure how to process what just happen. He decided to ignore it for the moment and focus on getting through the rest of what he was sure would be a busy day.

They made their way to the Auror's Office and were greeted by the receptionist, a polite wizard by the name of Samuel. Samuel seemed to be approaching middle age, and while not homely, he had obviously never set any hearts on fire. His hair was a nondescript brown and was kept short. His eyes matched his hair and he wore horn-rimmed glasses. He greeted Tonks before noticing Harry. After Tonks informed Samuel of their purpose, the wizard, ever professional, got over his shock at meeting the Chosen One and took out the requisite paperwork. Tonks talked Harry through it.  
"Basically, it's a bunch of disclaimers and waivers to sign. Don't talk about Ministry secrets to people who don't work for the Ministry, don't curse a superior officer, that's a form to fill out for insurance..."  
It went on like that for probably five minutes, Tonks truncating what Harry would have had to read. He was grateful for it...he'd never had patience for legal jargon. He gave the paperwork to Samuel.  
"You'll explain the rest to him, Tonks?" Samuel's voice was a somewhat neutral baritone, which seemed to compliment the man well. Tonks nodded, then got up and started to set out for one of the doors in the office. Harry followed her, and the door led to a short, narrow hallway with one other door. Tonks walked up to it, took out her wand and muttered an incantation that Harry couldn't make out. Then she opened the door, gestured to Harry to follow and stepped through.

He came out into a place that looked like an apartment flat. There was a bed with a red comforter and white sheets, a dresser, a nightstand, a small kitchen unit, and a bathroom with shower. He looked around and took the area in.  
"What is this place?"  
"Your new home for the next couple of weeks."  
Harry looked at Tonks and quirked an eyebrow.  
"After the paperwork, you'd usually have some interviews with the head of the Auror Office. Thing is, before he was elected, Kingsley headed the Aurors after Mad-Eye died. So, you already had your interview. All prospective Auror's have to go through training and pass several tests. The Ministry likes to keep the trainees on premise, in case of...well, anything. We've got a full medical team in case something happens during training, there's an R and R area where you can relax and get to know your fellows, a full library...all the good stuff. Now, to answer the questions you already had, the Head of the Office sets up these little apartments and you can only get in with a wand and a password or phrase. Shack and I are the only ones who know it, and..." Tonks made a pass with her wand and muttered another spell, "the room is now keyed to you. Here, watch my wand."  
She made a fairly easy to follow motion with her wand, which Harry picked up easily.  
"Good. Now if you make that motion and speak a word inside this room, it will become keyed to that word. So, as you can see, it'll really be your room. Sound good?"  
Harry nodded and repeated the motion and, with a bit of a smirk, whispered "Marauders."  
"Good," said Tonks, "you learn quick. Training will start tomorrow at around nine in the morning. I'm sure you know how to set a magical alarm...you've been going to Hogwarts, after all. Anything else?"

"Yeah," Harry managed to make himself say, "that bit earlier in the hall...what was the idea?"  
"That," said Tonks with a smirk, "was a bit of fun. I'm a big girl and you've grown up rather quick, Harry. Surely you don't mind if I like what I've been seeing?"  
Harry could have sworn he felt his jaw hit the floor. He'd never known Tonks to be...shy, but this was bold as brass!  
"I...but...you...you're a woman, Tonks and I'm..."  
"A man? A young man who hasn't been a child in probably a decade, who fought and beat the most dangerous Dark Wizard that ever existed?"  
"Er," Harry said smartly.  
"Besides, if what I felt earlier was any indication, I'd say you like what you're seeing too."  
"How could I not?"  
The words were out of Harry before he could recall them, and he felt himself blushing _again_ and he busied himself looking at the ground. He was sure she'd have some smart comment to offer back, but after a moment when he didn't hear anything, he dared to look up. The expression on her face was unreadable and she sat down on the bed, leaning back and crossing her legs.

"Is that so?" she queried, in that same husky voice she'd set him aflame with earlier. "Come here, Harry," she said, and indicated the spot on the bed next to her.  
He made his way to the bed slowly, somewhat befuddled, not knowing what to make of the situation or if it was even really happening. He sat down beside her and very calmly placed his hands on his knees, not daring to look at her.  
"Tell me, Harry," she said, somehow making his name a caress, "we're friends, right?"  
"Y-yes," he stuttered, more than a little nervous.  
"And friends help each other out, right?"  
"Right..."  
"Well, from what you said last night, it's been a long long time since you've had...well, any kind of fun." As she spoke she let her hand slide slowly up Harry's back, barely touching him, making him shudder beneath his shirt. "And, to be honest, with all that's gone on lately, it's been nothing but work, work, work," she continued. Her hand passed over his shoulder blades, making the muscles there somehow seem to tense and relax at the same time. "So...since we're friends...why don't we, you know, help each other out?"  
"H...how?"  
"Like this," and suddenly, her hand was in his hair and she kissed him.

That was the end of all conscious thought for Harry for quite some time. He had been kissed before but never like this. Cho had been few and far between, and he'd thought that his snogging with Ginny was the be all and end all of kissing. But this...it seemed that she was trying to crawl down his throat. He was numb with shock for a moment, but then his body couldn't help but respond, and his arms were around her.  
Tonks broke the kiss but let her lips travel about Harry, seeking his erogenous zones, letting her lips glide over his throat, his neck, softly biting his earlobes. He'd never felt anything like it, and it was all he could do to hang on to her and stifle his cries.  
While her mouth worked him over, pitching him into a frenzy, Harry became aware of pressure on the waist of his jeans. He looked down to see one of Tonk's hands expertly undoing his pants, and he gasped and nearly told her to stop. Before he could get the words out, her hand encircled his hardness, and this time, he did cry out.

Harry hadn't bothered with boxers today, and her hand surrounding his bare, rigid phallus was almost too much for him to take. Tonks started to pump him, and he could hear her breathing raggedly and making small, unintelligible in his ear. In some corner of his mind he wondered why...he'd done nothing to her. Then, all thought became beyond him. He grabbed onto her shoulders and dug his fingers in hard, grasping for purchase. Her name suddenly became a litany, and he repeated it again and again, approaching the crest. His cries of her name came louder and faster, and she knew when the moment was approaching. Her lips left his neck to replace her hand, and he almost screamed when he not only felt her mouth around him, but felt her take all of him, her lips sliding down until they met the flesh of his pelvis. As she started to work her way back up his shaft, his hands flew to her hair, grabbing on hard and pulling her down. Her throat muscles worked and she made a slight gagging sound, and that was what drove him over the edge. He thrust forward one last time and let out a hoarse cry, spending himself. It seemed to go on forever, and he could only squirm in pleasure when he felt her swallow, his phallus still in her mouth. Finally, his climax ended, and he put his hands behind him to keep himself from falling backward.

Tonks slowly drew her head up and smiled. Her eyes were alight, and before she spoke she took her sweatshirt off and began to lift her shirt.  
"My turn."


	4. Chapter 3

NOTE: I must apologize to anyone who has found and enjoyed this fic, and wanted an update. Long story short, my father died last year, and it's taken an incredible personal toll. These are the first words I've written in about a year.

* * *

Left gasping and sweating, Harry held up his hands for a minute and looked at Tonks.

"Wait, please! Tonks! What...what just happened?"

"Well," she said as she quirked an eyebrow, "where I come from, that's called oral sex, Harry."  
He glared at her for a moment, but it was hard to be indignant given what had just happened. He gave up and sat back, not taking his eyes off of her.

"Seriously. I need to know what...this is."  
"Look, Harry, it is what it is. We all have physical needs, and let me tell you, working as an Auror, especially when You-Know-Who was running around, those needs took a real back seat. Now that he's dealt with, well, I've got more time to...remember what I've been missing out on. I have certain needs that should be met, and come on, Harry, you have to know you're very desirable. I figure, if I've got this sexy guy, who happens to be a real hero, who also happens to be a mate of mine so things won't get awkward...well, doesn't that sound like a good setup to you?"  
He had to admit that it did. And he knew what she meant. All that time in the wilderness with Hermione and Ron...he was a young man, and he had been surpressing his desires. He hadn't even realized how much, with the emotional upheaval of defeating Voldemort and realizing that Ginny would not be his.

Seeing him mull things over, Tonks resumed speaking.

"I'll put it bluntly for you, Harry. They call this, er, friends with benefits. No flowers or chocolate or talking to each other every day. No commitment, other than friendship. Just mates who..well...fuck. Which I don't think is quite on the menu...yet. Give it a couple of times," she finished with a confident grin.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he didn't have a chance. As soon as his lips moved, Tonks threw herself at him, pressing him down on the bed and crushing her lips to his. He had wanted to use his hands to push her off, but somehow found them around her back, holding her close. He could taste some lingering trace of his seed on her tongue, but it wasn't unpleasant. He felt his phallus stir, sooner than he would have thought possible. Right on top of him, Tonks felt it too. He could feel her smile against his lips and she rolled her hips, sending a shockwave of desire through him. Suddenly her weight was off of his chest, and he opened his eyes. Her shirt was already halfway off, and another instant saw the garment completely removed. Harry couldn't help drawing in a hissing breath...

"Beautiful," he whispered.

She wasn't emaciated, as was, lord knows why, the current trend. She was in amazing shape...a curvaceous, toned body that was strong without having enough muscle to take away from her beauty. Her breasts were, Harry though, perfect. Large, but not too large for her body, perfectly round with small pink nipples...before he realized he had moved, his hands were cupping them. He began to slowly, experimentally, knead the flesh, and her soft moans encouraged him.

At that moment, much to Harry's annoyance, an envelope slipped through the slit at the door. It began to speak in Kingsley's voice.

"Harry Potter, make sure you report for duty at the training grounds, tomorrow at nine in the morning. Rest up, you'll need your strength."

Tonks chose that moment to look down at her watch and make a vexed sound.

"Damn...it's too late," she muttered. "Listen, Harry, you need a good night's rest. The first day is always the hardest. I'll let you go...but don't forget...you owe me one," she finished with a wicked grin. She was dressed in a flash and before Harry could say anything, she was gone.

* * *

Harry didn't sleep well. The night before had been fraught with dreams, dreams that were neither bad nor good, simply...confusing. He got up and made himself some cereal, dressed, and made his way to the Auror's Office. Samuel was there again, and handed Harry a slip of paper with his instructions. As he read the note, his eyebrows shot up...apparently he was due for physical training today. Shrugging to himself, he followed the directions to the training area. He eventually came to a large, carpeted room, with one man inside.

The man was young, he saw, although a bit older than Harry, and good looking. He was wearing plain black wizard's robes, but they were tied at the waste with a white sash. He had long hair, bound back in a ponytail, that was a deep chestnut brown. He kept a well trimmed chin goatee, and he was kneeling on the ground with his eyes closed, breathing in and out. As soon as Harry stepped into the room, the young man opened his eyes, which were, oddly, the exact same shade as his hair. As Harry approached, he stood up and nodded.

"Hello, Mister Potter. My name's Edward. It's nice to meet you." He took a couple of steps towards Harry, and extended his hand. Now that he was standing, Harry saw that he was of average height...Harry had a few inches on him. Edward was slender, but the robes on him were tight, and Harry could see that he was in phenomal shape. He moved with a certain grace and tension, almost as though he were a cat about to jump.

Harry took his hand and shook it. "Hello, Edward. You can call me Harry. So, what type of training are we about?"

"Well," said Edward as he disengaged, "for someone so young, you've seen a lot of fighting. Now you're in good shape and you have good reflexes from your Quidditch training, but...let's face it, Harry, if you end up wandless, you're in trouble."  
Harry had to admit that he was right. The few times he'd been without a wand, it had been more luck than skill that had seen him through.

While he was considering it, Edward moved. They were close, so he simply took a small step forward, hooked his left leg around the back of Harry's right, and pushed on Harry's chest.

Harry thudded to the ground, and the air was driven out of him. But a lifetime of being a target had given Harry excellent reactions. He rolled onto his side, using his knees and abdominal muscles to pull himself up, leaving his hand free to grab his wand. He gripped it tightly in his right and brought it up. But as he turned back to face Edward, he found that the man was no longer there.

"Good reflexes," came the voice from behind him, "but you tried to predict, not react." Harry tried to wheel about and face Edward, but the other man was simply too quick. He stepped inside the arc of Harry's turn, grabbing his wand arm at the wrist with his left hand. He used his the edge of his knife hand to strike Harry in the neck, not hard, but enough to stun him a bit. His right hand then transitioned to grab Harry's actual wand, and, taking care not to use too much force, Edward landed a perfect side kick into Harry's ribs. It was enough force to wrench the wand from Harry's hand and drive him away, taking the wind from him once more.

Edward held the want loosely, pointing it at Harry.

"No matter how good a duelist you are, you need to be able to do something if you don't have your wand. That's where I come in. Not only will this help you survive, but the arts I study have a simple philosophy. Train your mind and you train your body. If either are neglected, neither will be whole. Now, get up. Here's how you'll stand, to start with..."

* * *

Harry lost count of the hours. Edward was both a demanding and forgiving instructor. He had infinite patience for mistakes, but no tolerance for a lack of effort. Harry left the training that day sore, and with several bruises on his body, but he at least felt like he could throw a decent punch without breaking his hand now.

He was tired beyond belief. He got to his room, hit the bed, and promptly passed out.

He woke with a start, hearing the rap at his door. He hadn't even showered, so he felt disgusting, and he was still pretty out of it. Shaking his head to clear it, he stumbled over to the door and opened it up.

"Wotcher, Harry."

His sleep-induced haze was immediately gone. Tonks was standing there, wearing a black shirt and a small pink skirt that happened to be the samle color as her hair.

"Are you going to look all day, or let me come in?"

"Oh, er, sorry." Harry moved aside to let her pass. She walked right in and sat down on the bed, leaning back and crossing her legs.

"So," she began, "I heard your first day was with Eddie. He's pretty wicked, yeah?"

Harry smiled ruefully and nodded. "Absolutely. He's an all right guy and all, but how does he know exactly where to hit to make it hurt the most? And how does he manage to hit the same spot every bloody time? There is one thing, though. Isn't he kind of young?"

Tonks shrugged, and as she spoke her foot started idling up Harry's leg. "Well, yes. But he's been an Auror for several years, and he's been doing martial arts since he was about three. Runs in his family...his dad used to train the Auror's here." By this time, her foot was up around Harry's knee, and still travelling upwards. "But he was getting a bit on in years, and wanted to spend some more time with his missus, so, once Ed was old enough, he turned the training over. Truth be told, he's even better than his father."

Her foot had by now travelled up to his inner thigh, and he was starting to sweat and squirm.

"Tonks...what're you doing?"

She smiled, and something in her eyes made him catch his breath. She left her leg where it was, but moved the other one, giving him enough of a view between her legs to let him see that she wasn't wearing anything but her skin.

"Well, I seem to recall that you owe me one, mate. Time to pay up."


	5. Chapter 4

Harry's hands flew to Tonks' foot, and he moved it away. He moved away from her a bit...he found it hard to think while in such close proximity to her.

"Tonks...what are we doing here?"

"I thought we went over this last night?"

"Uh, it wasn't quite a satisfactory explanation...and to be fair, you did have me distracted."

"Well," she said with a resigned sigh, "I'm a grown woman, Harry. I have needs...and you're a young man, so I'm sure you do too. I like you, I always have, and I'm lucky to count you amongst my friends...that's why I want this to be happening with you. Everything that's gone on...Harry, I need to lose myself, I need to forget things. It's easy when I'm busy with work, but at night...when I'm alone..."

Tonks seemed to want to continue on, but her voice caught and her eyes began to well with tears. Harry was stupefied, not knowing how to react, until at last he remembered.

"God, Tonks...your dad...I'm so sorry..."

At the mention of her father, Tonks lost any remaining control. She started sobbing uncontrollably, hugging herself tightly to try to stop from shaking. Wordlessly, Harry came to her and enfolded her in his arms. He was inwardly amused...she had been bigger than him when they'd first met, and now she seemed almost fragile. Harry didn't waste time with empty words...he'd been in this state far too many times, and he knew that nothing he could say right now would assuage her grief. He simply held her, stroking her hair and rocking her gently, offering what comfort he could.

After some time, her wracking sobs slowed, and though she still sniffled, she was finally able to speak again.

"I can't...it doesn't seem like he's gone. I feel like I could just go over, and he'll be there to hug me and kiss me and call me Dora."  
Harry knew this feeling all to well.

"How do you deal with this, Harry? Dumbledore was bad enough...Alastor was devastating. How do I get over this when it's my father?"

Holding her tighter, Harry thought a moment before speaking. There was actually something cathartic about this. Harry would never wished this pain on anyone, but for once, he was there to comfort someone else, as his friends had always been there for him.

"You don't," he began. "You never get over it. You've had this, and you always think that after one big breakdown, it's done and it will start getting better. The truth is, in the early days, it won't even seem real. You'll remember the way he took his coffee, or if he ever built anything...not the huge things, but the small, insignificant details that really made the person the way they were. And you'll feel it a few times, but mostly it'll feel unreal. And then, some time later, it will really hit you. Could be a month away, could be a year away, but something will set you off, maybe you'll go to a restaurant you were both at, someone will use a phrase he always used to...it could be anything, but it will make you realize that, after all that's happened, after how far you've come...you never get over it. And when you really _get_ that, you start to live with it. It never heals, really, but it gets better. It's funny, you know, all the pomp and circumstance we give to the dead. But funerals aren't for the dead. They're for the living, so we can have our chance for grief and closure, but I think the best way to live with it, the best way to honor the ones you love that are gone, is to be the person that they loved. He may be gone, Tonks, but the best of your father is still here, in you. It might sound trite, but it's true. Just be Tonks...be Dora, be the daughter that he loved, and you'll find it easier and easier to live with just his memory."

As Harry said it, he couldn't stop his own recollections. He had lost so many people who had loved him. His parents, whom he would never know, except for the shades conjured by the Resurrection Stone. He didn't know what his mother's favorite song was, or what his father's favorite food was. He remembered Sirius, a man who had risked his very soul to help his godson, who had been stolen from Harry just when he had finally gained a father figure. There was Remus, the first good Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher he'd ever had, the man who'd taught Harry how to save himself and, indeed, his godfather from the creatures that threatened their souls...there was Fred, always ready with a joke, his old Quidditch companion. Snape, who Harry was confused about, but someone who had so loved his mother that he had risked his life constantly, and ultimately gave it up, to help her only son. So many more...and Albus Dumbledore, his last, greatest protector, the only wizard that could have seen a way to the end of Voldemort, and the man who'd kept Harry safe while he fulfilled that destiny...and, Harry believed, a man who had come to love him like a son.

"Sometimes you need to kick yourself, remind yourself that the reason they were fighting was because they wanted a world where we could all be safe and happy...so work on the happy part," he said with a grin.

His words were having some effect. Tonks had stopped crying, and she even looked up and offered a small, tremulous smile.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"I've been using you, Harry. Guy as good as you, looks as good as you...you were easy to lose myself in, and after what you'd just confided in me, what you've gone through...you deserve better than that."

Harry couldn't help holding back a smile.

"Are you mad? Getting lost in stuff isn't just good for you, you know...you're a welcome distraction!"

Tonks' laughter finally held some of it's own life, and the sound of it filled Harry with a warmth that he was unaccustomed to. They stayed the way they were for a while, comfortable in the silence, and with each other, until finally Tonks disentangled herself from Harry and rose.

"It's time I had a kip...but before I go, well..."

She leaned down and planted a soft, somewhat chaste kiss on Harry's lips.

"I don't know what we are right now, Harry...but at least we're friends. We've both seen a lot of loss lately...I think we can wait to figure anything else, yeah?"

Harry stood, stuffing his hands into his pockets, smiling somewhat ruefully.

"Yeah...lost a lot, killed Voldemort, now I'm becoming an Auror...couple of changes," he remarked airily. Tonks smirked back at him with something of their old twinkle back in her eyes.

"Look at it this way, at least at his point in your life you're good at rolling with it...night, Harry."

Tonks opened the door and before Harry could do more than call a farewell after her, she was gone, leaving the Boy Who Lived alone with his confused thoughts.

* * *

The next morning was spell work. Harry was in something resembling a Muggle firing range with several other new trainees. Every one of them glanced at him, eyes widening in recognition of the "Chosen One." Harry sighed and shook his head...he really wished people would just treat him like a normal person.

An instructor whose name Harry didn't catch started barking orders, and Harry took the place he was directed to. All of the other trainees lined up in their own station. Apparently order one of the day was stunning, nonverbally. Harry grimaced...he'd always had difficulty with nonverbal spells. Enough practice dummies for all of the trainees to target sprang up from the ground, and the instructor shouted, "FIRE!"

Harry drew his wand almost faster than the eye could see, and thought, with all of his might, _Stupefy!_

He wasn't prepared for the effect. A bolt of red light brighter and larger than any Stunner he'd ever produced shot forward, and didn't just hit his target, it obliterated it. Harry's jaw slackened and he gazed at what he had done, dumbfounded. Every other face had turned to face him as well. Few of the trainees had managed to make a discernible impact, and none had wreaked the kind of damage that Harry had.

_What the hell was that about?_

As the day wore on, the unexpected power Harry had displayed was constantly present. Every incantation came to his mind with astonishing ease, and the strength of his spells were remarkable. Even the grizzled instructor could find no fault with Harry's work. Somehow, when they moved on to Transfiguration and Charms for both attack and defense, the trend continued. Harry, who had always done well in both subjects, was performing magic that, he believed, would have left his teachers speechless. The telling moment was when the instructor conjured flaming boulders and sent them at Harry, who effortlessly changed the lot of them to sparrows and sent them back to harass the instructor.

By the time the training was done, he was no closer to being regarded as normal than before. If anything, the people present were now somewhat wary of him. If he was honest with himself, he really couldn't blame them. Harry had frightened himself with the display of raw power he had put on today. He needed to find out what had happened, and fast. He needed someone with answers. It was time to go back to Hogwarts, to talk to the only echo of Dumbledore that remained.

* * *

McGonagall's password was still the same. "Acid Pops" got Harry right through the gargoyle and up into the office. The portrait of Dumbledore was seated, smiling contently as a spider climbed up his silver beard.

"Ah, Harry," said the portrait, "I'm delighted to see you again so soon!"  
"What's happening to me?"

The question, fraught with fear, was out of Harry before he could stop it.

"Whatever do you mean, dear boy?"

Harry related what had happened that day, and as he did so, the portrait-Dumbledore steepled his fingers and peered at Harry over his half-moon spectacles.

"Well, that is quite interesting...I had wondered if this would happen."  
"You...you knew this would happen?"

"No, no, I merely said I wondered. You remember, I'm sure in your sixth year, when we were going through those memories, and I told you that we would be entering the murky swamp of guesswork? Well, it is time for more of that, as, since I am not really there, I cannot verify things...but I have my theory, Harry. Given the connection you had to Lord Voldemort, I often wondered that you were not more powerful magically then you were. Do not mistake me, you are talented in the extreme, Harry...but you are not me. When he came of age, Tom Riddle displayed abilities that were a match for mine, when I was his age. I, of course, had the advantage of experience, but let us not forget that Lord Voldemort was one of the most powerful wizards in history. I always thought it passing odd that your continuing successes had more to do with your own wit and bravery than simple overpowering magic. I do not think that is a bad thing, on the contrary it has helped you prepare for this gift. Because if I am right, Harry, the link between your wands and your souls has transferred Voldemort's raw magical strength to you."

Harry's jaw dropped open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I thought...Professor, I've done so much...I thought I was done, I thought I was free..."

Harry's knees suddenly went week, and he barely managed to make it to a chair before falling.

"Harry, you are mistaking this! This is a gift, not another curse! Voldemort is dead and gone, completely...nothing of him or his soul remains. But remember that energy cannot truly be destroyed, only transformed. Most of the time when a witch or wizard dies, their magical energy is simply released into the natural world around them. I'm sure you will see, where my body is buried, the plants grow in absurd abundance. But your unique connection to Voldemort gave the energy somewhere else to go...into you."  
"But...but I can't speak Parseltongue anymore!"

"Further proof that this is nothing to fear! You lost that ability because that was a trait of Voldemort's bloodline, and not magical energy in and of itself. The taint that was Tom Riddle is gone, and I for am greatly anticipating what a young man with such power could do for the good people of the world."

Harry sat for a moment, digesting this. He finally looked up at the portrait, somewhat resigned.

"I suppose I was never going to be just another wizard, was I?"  
"I'm afraid not, my boy. Fate singled you out for a greater purpose. But, and let this be my final lesson to you...do not repeat my mistakes. Do not trust so in your power, do not be so overconfident that you stand alone. Because, though I loved Hogwarts and all in it dearly...Harry, I was very, very alone. Remember, you are a better man than me...you can be trusted with this power. Trust those around you with it, as well."

Harry nodded and the portrait returned to slumber. He walked over to the fire, using some Floo powder to reappear at the Ministry. Walking back to his room, he was filled with a strange sense of...he didn't know what. If this had been weeks ago, he'd have been straight off to tell Ron and Hermione...but he couldn't stand to be around them right now. He didn't begrudge them their happiness, but it pained him to see them together like that, while he had no one.

_Well...maybe not no one._

With a renewed spring in his step, Harry set off for Tonk's room.


	6. Chapter 5

Harry looked around, taking in Tonks' room. He had thought, given her natural tendency to fall all over things, that the room would be messy. He was surprised to find everything spic and span, with the bed made. In fact, in many ways it was identical to his own room...Tonks had added very few personal touches, the only exceptions being some photographs. Harry took them in, seeing the Tonks family with a young, magenta-haired Tonks waving at him, smiling cheerfully. He looked over to the next photo, which seemed to be a team of Aurors. He recognized Mad-Eye, Dawlish and Kingsley in the picture, along with Tonks. She seemed younger than now...they all did.

"Right after I got through the training," she said, as though she could read his mind. "Me and Mad-Eye...we were always close. I got him, I guess, in a way that a lot of others didn't, and he looked out for me, probably more than I ever knew."

Harry nodded, remembering the grizzled old Auror with fondness. Harry wished he'd had more time to get to know the real Alastor Moody. He swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat, remembering the eye he'd taken from Umbridge, the one he'd buried in some forest...he wished he'd been able to honor Moody more than that. He sighed and straightened up, putting his hands in his pockets.

"So, I've, uh...something's happened...something big." he began.

"Not that I'm complaining about you coming to me, but why not tell your friends Ron and Hermione? They've been through everything with you."

"Yeah, well...I dunno, they've just become a couple, you see, and I don't want to intrude on that right now. They put as much on the line as I have, I figure they're entitled to some peace right about now."  
That wasn't the truth, exactly, nor was it a lie, but Tonks accepted it.

"All right then, out with it."  
"First, I need to do some explaining. Well...a lot of explaining, actually. Didn't any of the Order ever wonder why Dumbledore would send me after Voldemort? I mean, you all were loads better trained and more experienced."  
"Well, we all wondered, mate. We wondered really loudly to Dumbledore, if you get my drift."

He smirked at that.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did. There was a reason for it. Tonks, no one but Ron and Hermione know all this stuff, so...just between us, okay?"

She nodded and sat down, waiting for him to continue.

"Do you know what a horcrux is?"

She made a face as she thought about it, then shook her head no.

"A horcrux is a device in which you can hide part of your soul..."

He began at the beginning. It certainly wasn't a short tale, and he was interrupted several times when Tonks, disbelieving, asked him to reiterate something. Harry took it in stride...he knew how unbelievable it all was. He even believed that in all of wizarding history, what had happened between himself and the man who was once Tom Riddle was unique.

"So you...actually _saw_ him kill people?"

Harry nodded grimly.

"Both in person and in his head, and let me tell you, in his head was even worse...because I could feel what he felt, and it made me feel like I'd never be clean again..."

He trailed off, remembering those awful cold rages, and worst of all, the moments when Voldemort had felt triumphant.

"Anyway," he continued, "I just thought I was done with it all, that there'd be no more. I can't speak Parseltongue anymore, which believe me I'm thankful for, but this..."

Tonks started chewing on her lower lip, obviously thinking. She was staring at nothing, and Harry found her whole demeanor to be absolutely endearing.

"Well," she said slowly, "I know what the portrait said, but that may not be what happened. Most people don't perform at their best when under constant stress. I'm not talking about moments of crisis or anything, those are different. But your whole life as a wizard, you've known that you were a marked man. You've known since you were eleven that he was trying to come back. And I'd imagine the knowledge that the person that killed your parents and tried to kill you was on his way back to the land of the living was, uh...disquieting?"  
Harry shrugged his assent.

"Harry, for the first time in seven years, you're free of it. Take that, and the fact that maybe a structured classroom maybe wasn't the best place for your skills to mature, and this could be all you."

Harry smiled mirthlessly and drew his wand. Silently, he flicked his wand and from thin air there was a large block of diamond. He didn't know why it came to him, but it did, and with a bit more wand work, the large block had changed, becoming refined. When he was finished, the figure was unmistakable Tonks. She was nude, standing in what appeared to be an open clam, covering her nether regions with long hair that Harry turned a shade of pink.

"I always liked Botticelli's Birth of Venus," started Harry, "but I can promise you that I couldn't have conjured this out of thin air with just my own abilities. Not only would I not know how, but I'm certainly not an artist. But I just _thought_ this, and it happened."

He glanced over at Tonks, and found her jaw slack. Harry felt his face grow hot...he hadn't even realized what he'd been doing. Quickly and with no small embarassment, he made a few more passes with her wand, and the carving disappeared.

"I don't know how I just did that, Tonks, I really don't. I never learned a spell for that, or..."

Harry trailed off, helpless.

"Look, Harry," said Tonks, recovering herself, "Maybe you're right, maybe not. Either way, don't look at this as a bad thing. So you're packing a bit more punch than you used to; believe me, that's a good thing for an Auror. And don't worry about not knowing how you did stuff...this is magic, remember? I mean, do you really know how a Stunning Spell works? No, you just make the incantation, point, and boom, right? This is no different."  
Harry had to own, her logic did make a certain sense.

"And, listen, for what it's worth...I think the portrait was right. I don't think you were meant for a quiet life. Look at what's happened in the last century or so...Grindelwald, most horrible Dark Wizard ever...until Voldemort came around. There's always been Dark Wizards, Harry, there always will be. What if the next one is even stronger, even more evil? I can't really imagine it, but what if? Dumbledore's gone, Harry, so we need somebody with that kind of strength...someone for us to rally around. Looks like it was set up so that would be you."

It was the same thing the portrait had told him, but it was said differently, and, somehow, that made all the difference. Feeling somewhat better, he offered Tonks a smile.

"Thanks...that all helps, really. I'll let you get some shuteye, then...see you soon, yeah?"

She nodded, but she was chewing her lip and staring again. Harry knew she was thinking about something. He made his way to the door and, right as he was about to open it...

"Harry...the thing you made. Is that really how you see me?"

Her voice was like nothing Harry had ever heard. It seemed almost like it didn't even come from Tonks, but something about it made him stop and stare for a moment. He opened his mouth to reply, but again felt his face grow hot. He felt as though his tongue had been glued to the roof of his mouth. He couldn't speak, and he didn't know why. He'd tried to talk Lord Voldemort down, tried to get him to show remorse, and now he couldn't bring himself to speak to the woman who had once made pig noses to get him and his friends to laugh.

He nodded, and then was out her door.


	7. Chapter 6

_Damn it, woman, get a hold of yourself!_

Tonks heart was going a mile a minute, and she felt hot, light headed..._Merlin's Beard, you have a crush! _

And there it was, plain as day...years his senior, she was infatuated with a boy...

_He's of age..._

That wouldn't even be out of Hogwarts yet...

_If not for the fact that he just spent the last year figuring out how to, and then pulling off, the death of VOLDEMORT..._

Tonks threw herself down onto her bed and pulled her pillow over her face, screaming into it. Because somewhere she knew, deep down, that this was more than just simple infatuation. A crush wouldn't steal her breath when she caught a glimpse of him, wouldn't make her giddy just by being around him...no, this went much deeper, and she wasn't ready for it. Neither was Harry, she knew. What would be best would be to stop that whole "friends with benefits" nonsense, and see if things could just develop...but she knew, even as she thought it, that she wouldn't do it. She wanted him too much, wanted him with such fierceness that she herself didn't understand the depth of her desire. She had difficulty finding rest that night, and when she did, all she could dream of was him.

*

The next day came, and Harry rose to greet it, somewhat more cheerfully than he would have though possible, given the events of yesterday. He was do for physical combat again, so Harry headed over towards the training area, smiling ruefully in anticipation of the bruises he knew he was about to receive.

When he got there, Edward was moving through some type of form. Harry stopped and merely watched for a moment...the movements were fluid, beautiful, almost dancelike, but the explosive power that sometimes came without warning was remarkable. Edward ended the form, then turned to greet Harry. The man was breathing easily, but a faint sheen of sweat had appeared on his face. He smiled over at Harry.

"Enjoyed that, did you?"

"Actually, yeah, it was pretty brilliant. What was it all about?"

"How do you get better at anything?"

Harry hadn't been expecting a question, but the answer came easily to his lips.

"Practice."  
"Yes. Practice. These forms are just that...practice. They help increase power, stamina, speed and flexibility...in other words, forms are a workout. But beyond that, there's a difference between the way I do forms and the way you, at this level, would be able to do it. I wonder if you know what the difference is?"  
Harry shook his head no.

"It's intent, Harry. You can do a kick to the air," which he demonstrated by sending out a pretty, but somewhat lazy kick, "or you can kick the air like you see someone there, somebody you have to simply _break._"

This time when Edward snapped the kick out, it was done with a ferocity that Harry had never seen in the man. His eyes were barely able to even track the movement. Harry had to own, done the way that Edward had just shown, the form would be much more interesting to watch, and probably to perform to.

"The history of forms," Edward continued, "is actually pretty interesting. See, the first real 'martial art' was Pankration, a system of unarmed combat developed by the Greeks. Greek soldiers under Alexander the Great carried this to India, where the whole system was reserved for members of the royal family. Eventually, one of these royals, a Buddhist monk who became known as Bodhidharma, came to the Shaolin temple in China. There he found monks who were out of shape, people who fell asleep during their meditations. He taught them the martial arts, which the monks eventually adapted to include animal movements after observing the beasts of the forest. Thus was born Shaolin Kung Fu, the basis for nearly all modern martial arts. However, in the process of refining kung fu, it was found that simply throwing all of the young fighters together and having them brawl left very little time for training. They fought, were injured, then had to heal before doing so again. Eventually forms were created as an alternate means, along with lighter sparring and low to non-contact exercises. Forms truly excelled as a method to practice defense against multiple opponents, because quite honestly, how often do you have five guys around you that you trust enough to get into a mock fight with?"

Harry laughed and thought about it.

"Uh, well...I guess never."  
"That's about right. Anyway, enough about that. Forms aren't really an essential part of what I teach here...this is all about self defense, which while forms definitely help with, the payoffs aren't immediate. Today it's gonna be about kicks, and balance. How flexible are you, Harry?"

"Uh, fairly, I guess. I mean, my knees are always up around my head when I'm on a broom, so..."  
"Well, that's good. Do me a favor, reach down and see if you can touch your toes."

Harry could, and he did.

"Not bad," Edward said, "but now it's time for a question. Why would you kick somebody in the head?"

"Uh, because it hurts? And I guess you could knock someone out?"

"Well, yeah, to both of those, but let me phrase it to you this way...why bother?"

"I don't think I'm following you," Harry said.

Edward nodded, then walked over to one of the heavy bags hanging in the room. Edward brought his knee in, chambering his leg, and unleashed a powerful front kick to what would have been the face of somebody his own height. He then recoiled his leg and landed.

"Not bad, right? But what about this?"

This time when he kicked, he aimed for about groin level. Edward's leg left the ground and suddenly his foot was flying into his target...it almost seemed as though there had been no intervening time.

"You can see a head kick coming a while away," Edward said. "It's slow and obvious. Yes, you can use it as a feint, but that's a much more advanced concept. What I want you to understand, and what I want you to practice, is that speed and intelligence are everything. Why bother taking the time to get your foot all the way to somebody's face? Why not kick the groin, or the knee, punch them a few times and then, when they're doubled over you can kick them in the face. Why do all the hard work to get your foot up there? Get their heads closer to the ground first!"

Harry couldn't help a laugh...he liked the idea.

"Let the other guy do the work, right?"

"You've got it! Now, here's the proper way to kick..."

*

The lesson wore on, and Harry was grateful for the pure physical effort it took. It was so demanding that he didn't have time to think about anything else, which was just what he needed. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew there was something big going on between him and Tonks, and he really wasn't prepared to deal with anything of the sort. He had just showered and was getting ready to grab some food when a transparent silver lynx suddenly appeared before him. Harry was alarmed before he realized that he had seen this before, and in a second, Kingsley's voice issued from the Patronus charm.

"_Come to my office, please."_

The lynx dissipated after delivering the message, and Harry, a bit confused, headed off to the Minister's office.

He knocked on the door, and Kingsley's deep, calm voice bid him to enter. Harry opened the door and walked through, closing it behind him. The Minister was seated at his desk, relaxed and smiling. Harry took this to be a good sign.

"Please, have a seat, Harry," Kingsley said, indicating the chair in front of his desk.

Harry walked over and sat down in the cushy chair. "What's the trouble, sir?"

"No trouble, Harry, none at all. I just had some news I thought you'd find welcome."

Harry arched one of his brows and waited.

"I simply thought that, given the heroism some of your friends showed, that it might be prudent to extend my offer not only to you. After all, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, and, somewhat surprisingly, Mr. Longbottom all performed far beyond what anyone could have expected of them. We need young blood, young wizards that people can trust in. Ms. Granger declined, not being sure what career she wishes to pursue, but I'm happy to announce that Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom have accepted. They are to, like you, become Aurors."

Harry was, for a moment, shocked. After that initial surprise, he could not contain his pleasure.

"Brilliant! Neville and Ron belong here, after all they've done."  
"My thoughts exactly."  
"So, Hermione doesn't know what she wants to do, eh?"

"No, but she did mention giving some thought to joining the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures...and after what happened with those house-elves, wouldn't you say that we wizards need to change the way we think?"

"I couldn't agree more, sir."

*

The meeting left Harry in much better spirits. He was glad that Ron and Neville would be coming...it'd be nice to have guys his own age to relate to again, and this way he wouldn't have to find any excuses to go see his best friend. He ate, and then returned to his room, ready for rest. However, when he opened the door, he saw that someone had slipped a note underneath. Harry picked it up and scanned it. It was brief, and to the point.

_Harry, come meet me in my room. Password is lemon sorbet._

_-Tonks_

This was the second summons he'd received today. Not knowing what was going on, Harry made his way over to Tonks' room, whispered the password, and entered.

She had the lamps low, giving the room a soft lighting. Tonks herself wasn't in the main bedroom.

"Tonks?"

At his voice, she emerged from the bathroom, wearing nothing but a white robe. The garment barely reached her thighs, and he couldn't help frankly ogling her. She stood for a second, hands on her hips, apparently reveling in Harry's attention.

"I know you have the day off training tomorrow," she remarked conversationally, "and that's a good thing."  
She started walking towards him, slowly, and for the life of him he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He hadn't even known she could move like this...Tonks, who tripped over her own to feet, and anyone elses that happened to be in the way...Harry would never have believed her hips could move like that.

"That's a good thing," she continued, but with a different, huskier, smokier voice, "Because I intend for this to be a long night."


End file.
